Smile, chico
by Allyanime
Summary: What happens when Pirate!Spain and Chibi!Romano are transported to 21st century America?     A pirate fic set in modern times


"Spain!"

As soon as he heard his name being called in that familiar voice his head shot towards where he suspected the voice to be coming from.

"Shit...Roma! Where are you?" Unable to see through the chaotic mess of blood and smoke from the small fires, he gripped the sword in his hands tighter and ran farther away from the battle scene and to the upper deck of the large pirate ship. His pirate ship. The ship that Romano begged constantly to ride on, and of course stupid him just had to finally give in and take the kid out on a ride. It wasn't even very far of a voyage! They were just taking some trade over to his colonies in the new world, and then of course stupid England just had to go and attack him when he hadn't even done anything!

Okay, so his men had started fire to one of England's ships a few weeks back, and stolen a few 'precious' gold coins...with a few meaning almost a thousand euro's worth. But still, that was no reason to attack a harmless Spanish cargo ship!

Spain elbowed a British pirate in the gut, barley missing an incoming sword to his neck. Not like he would die from that stupid sword anyway, or in that fact any type of sword, gun, weapon or that weird Japanese knife he forgot the name of. Because he was, literally _España_, and nothing short than a mass holocaust of his citizens would probably ever danger his life, but then again he didn't want to test that theory, and neither did any of the other countries with their people. Well maybe Russia would try... since Spain had always gotten that creepy feeling when he was standing within ten feet of Russia, and figured he just might be crazy enough to try and kill himself. Because he was like, Russia. 

Although, even with the whole thing of countries being unable to die; being stabbed did have its disadvantages. For one, since both countries and humans shared the same overall body construction; that also meant they shared the same pain tolerance.

Meaning that if a country got injured, it would hurt just the same as it would to a human. Although the one difference being that countries heal faster, still it's a pain to deal with in the middle of an battle because having an injury could drastically slow you down. Man, he had to go find Romano before some creepy British pirate got a hold of him.

Making his way through the blood and commotion that encased both sides he allowed himself to smile a bit, at least his crew was doing a damn good job of kicking those stupid Privateer's butts! It was almost too easy these days, with England spending to much time controlling his American colony, he had in turn greatly let his guard down, letting him and France gain strength in the whole pirate thing.

Spain drifted away from his thoughts quickly and his smile fell as he found the source of Romano's screams.

_God, that bastard_.

Standing before him was the sight of Romano, his_favorite _little henchman swearing and screaming loudly for Spain, with a gun pressed against the side of his head by a very familiar face. And much to Spain's disappointment, that face did not belong to just any cocky British privateer who found it 'fun' to point guns at small boys, but England.

_Shit. _

What where the chances of England himself being the one to show up? Of all the stupid British Privateers that were floating along in this ocean, why was it England that stood before him and moreover dared to point a gun at Romano! Then it hit him, stupid brit must've planned this out, waiting for the moment Spain brought his most prized possession onto the ship to attack. England knew he was the weakest when he was with Romano, it would be the biggest way to inflect damage.

"Hello there Spain, nice sailing weather we have today, aye? You can never know with these silly western seasons," England laughed deeply, using his free hand to wave upwards towards the clouded sky.

"England, let's skip the weather and talk about why you have a gun pointed towards my henchman? That's not very nice, you know." 

Spain glared at the British man directly in his darkening emerald eyes- or, eye as he should say, for the man wore an scuffed up eye patch that sprawled across the left side of his face. Probably was just for show, Spain thought. Everyone knew that men who had really gotten their eyes gouged out would never cover their scars; instead, they would wear them proudly, as a warning sign of some sort. Well at least that's what the cool Spanish guys did.

"Not very nice you say? I beg your pardon, but pointing a gun is a lot nicer than shooting one, don't you think?" He pressed the said object farther against Romano's head, receiving a small yelp in return, followed by a string of swears coming from the young country.

"Then again, being nice isn't really my thing today." England hummed, staring across at the unmoving Spanish nation.

Spain bit his lip, if he tried to fight back with his sword England would shoot, no doubt. He could try to convince him to drop the gun, but with knowledge of past experiences fresh in his mind, he knew that the Brit didn't like to be reasoned with. Or told what to do.

Damn, that left him with only one choice to get the gun away.

_Please forgive me Romano._

A second later Spain lunged, putting a not-so amused look onto England's face and a terrified one onto Romano's.

"Romano, duck!" He shouted, knocking the musket as far away as he could from Romano before England over-came the initial shock of Spain's random timing. England pulled the trigger as fast as he could before Romano had the time to move any farther away from him. England laughed, watching Romano finally break down, eyes welling up with tears as he realized that the there was no way to dodge the bullet that was now mere inches away from him. Spain knew it too, and England made sure to save a mental picture of that _priceless expression_ that covered the Spanish man's face. Guilt, hopelessness, fear; God, England just loved to see the other country in pain. Then, within second later it was over. The scream that could only belong to a small child pierced through all other commotion that had been there a second ago, leaving only smoke that would soon unravel the damage done to both Spain and England.

Spain quickly searched through the thick smoke, silently hoping that it was the right choice to push

Romano out of the way to avoid severe damages. Because it really sucked being shot through head,

especially when you were still living afterwards. 

"Gah, you fucking bastard…" Romano's voice was choppy, as he gasped for air from the pain, which he was currently very desperately trying to block out, as well as hold onto the consciousness that threatened to leave him. But he still managed to let out a few more swears aimed for Spain, but mostly England before deciding that the darkness that was looming around him looked a lot more inviting than what was going on. He greeted it with ease, and felt his body go limp as he entirely lost consciousness, catching a glimpse of Spain's face before blacking out and falling against the wooden boards that covered the ship's floor with a silent thud.

Spain scooped up Romano's body and moved it away from where he was going to kill England.

_Okay, left shoulder wound. Not the worst that could've happened, but it is worse than I thought. Romano is going to kill me when I wake up, but that's okay because at least it wasn't the head or heart. _Spain stood up, swiftly shrugging off his maroon colored pirate jacket* and dropping it by Romano's side. He smirked slowly, turning towards England.

Badass Conquistador mode, _activated. _

"Calm down Spain, the bullet only grazed the lad. No big deal" England shrugged, earning a knife to his throat.

"No big deal? Haha..England you do not know the meaning." Spain moved the knife farther down England's neck drawing abstract patterns, leaving thin red lines of blood to dribble from his creations.

England didn't even flinch, instead smirking back to the Spaniard that was mere inches from his face.

_If only he could reach his gun…Then he could shoot that jackass._

"But don't worry England, I can teach you!" Spain smiled, leaving a jagged line as he slashed his knife away from the skin. Not to deep though, because he didn't want England passing out just yet~

"Oh we'll see about that." England reached for his knife, the one he always kept in his back pocket just in case a certain Spaniard decided to play. He checked again, feeling an empty holder, no knife.

Spain smiled, "Looking for this?" he held out the eight inch blade, then jerked it back when England grabbed for it.

England was in trouble, he didn't want to let on that he was in trouble of course, so he didn't make any movement when he realized that his gun was on the floor and Spain had his only knife; but he was. Without a weapon he was pretty much screwed… Especially up against a very angry Spain with at crew of at least a hundred men ready to draw arms at any given moment towards him.

"Tell me why you are here England, why you have chosen to randomly attack a ship that is only carrying a load of cargo? Spain asked in fake sympathy.

"_España_ my friend, have you forgotten who and what we are exactly?" England laughed. "I'll attack you whenever I feel like it. The fact that that brat was on the ship was just an added bonus in my part"

"Tsk tsk, that's not a very good habit to have. What if one day I just decided to go and shot America because I felt like it?"

"Well I for one would never be stupid enough to leave my dear America out in the open, so I cannot even imagine that sort of an scene, sorry."

Spain spat on the British man "We'll maybe I will show you."

England laughed "Enough talking, you're stupid voice bothers me. If you are going to kill me, try it. I doubt you will succeed after all. "

"_Oh, voy a__hacer algo peor que__ese hijo de puta_" Spain smirked.

SPACE

**Oh honohon~ There will be more**

**-Ally out **


End file.
